


Exemplary punishment

by cakewizard



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Iberian Union, M/M, Pirates, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Prior to the English Civil War, age of exploration, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 17:02:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30024996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cakewizard/pseuds/cakewizard
Summary: Following a skirmish at sea, Portugal teaches England not to target Iberian ships.
Relationships: England/Portugal (Hetalia)
Kudos: 17





	Exemplary punishment

“I’m not particularly fond of this.”

Portugal smirked and leaned down his bite his ear gently, his teeth catching England’s dangling emerald earring and pulling it slightly until he groaned. “I know,” he said into his ear.

He circled the chair he had bound England to and came to stand behind him, settling his hands on his shoulders, massaging them slowly. “But since _someone_ was caught stealing my ships and was stupid enough to get himself arrested, I have to set the example for the rest of the crew.”

He felt England swallow under his hands and brushed them down his coat, his fingers catching on the straps and buckles across his chest.

“You didn’t inform me the Spanish Armada would be escorting your ships now,” England said defiantly, “How was I suppose to know?”

Portugal hummed and leaned his head over his shoulder, his hands reaching England’s heavy belt buckle. He could feel him tremble slightly, his breathing laborious and hot near his ear. “My brother has eyes and ears everywhere.” His fingers danced on the metal. He could feel England’s pulse beating faster. “If you keep making stupid mistakes like this I’m afraid our deal will be off.”

“No,” England was quick to say, feebly pulling at his restrains, his hands twisting under the ropes that tied him to the chair. “We’ll be better prepared next time.”

“Will you?” he asked, pressing his smirk against England’s ear, his fingers rubbing experimentally over the bulge in his pants. He gasped, moving his head down to see even though his eyes were blindfolded. Portugal’s smirk widened when he struggle against the ropes, bucking his hips into his hand. “Wouldn’t it be a shame if Spain found out about this?”

He seized him in his hand and England moaned, biting his lips to restrain the sound, his cheeks turning redder by the second. Portugal pressed the heel of his hand hard against him, rolling his fingers around the outline of his cock. “I’m not going back to the dungeons of Spain’s palace, England,” he seethed into his ear. “It took me years to convince my brother to let me back into the ocean, I’m not losing my privileges because you can’t sink a Spanish ship.”

England growled at him, trying to yank his head away, but not going very far. “I _can_ sink any ship I like. Had you warned me in time, this would not have happened.”

His fingers tightened around the hot flesh under his palm and England inhaled sharply. “And how was I supposed to warn you with the crew breathing down my neck?” he asked cruelly, reaching his other hand to undo the collar of England’s coat, slipping inside both the coat and his shirt to roll his nipple between his fingers. England threw his head back, his hips bucking again against his hand. “Should I have sent you a white dove with a little note tied to its leg saying, ‘dearest England, my brother finally sent the security detail I’ve been asking for months, and it just so happens that he chose to do so while we were on our way to meet you’,” Portugal mocked in his ear, speeding up his hands, holding England down as he writhed under him. “He’s not stupid, England. He knows something.”

He let him go brusquely and stepped away from the chair. England sagged against his bonds, breathing raggedly, visibly and painfully hard. Portugal enjoyed him like this far more than he probably should. He palmed his own erection hastily and walked to his desk in the middle of his quarters, opening drawers until he found what he was looking for.

“We need to devise a better communications system,” England said between gasps for air. “Something his spies in your crew won’t find out.”

The laces and buckles of his own clothes were a pain to remove, but he did it as quickly as possible, pulling out his boots and dropping them down with silent thuds. England’s head shot up, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“What are you doing?” He walked back to him and forced England’s thighs open with his hands. “Port?” England head was blindly following the sounds, and he looked utterly _edible_ with his mouth open in silent questions and his lips bitten red.

He placed one knee on his thigh and pushed him back against the backrest with a hand on his shoulder. His other hand reached behind himself to breach his hole with oily fingers. England’s eyebrows rose with understanding, his hands twisting again against the ropes.

“Let me see,” he asked breathily, curling his fingers and moving his head to follow the squelching sounds of Portugal’s fingers in his ass. “Remove the blindfold this instance, Portugal.”

“Or what?” he teased, smirking and leaned over him so England would feel the breath of his words on his lips. “What are you going to do?”

He growled, pushing himself forward to catch his lips, but Portugal pulled away in time. “I swear the moment you let go of me I’ll bend you over in front of the entire crew and fuck you while they cheer, Portugal.”

“Ah,” Portugal crooned, leaning over to speak into his ear. “But who says I’m letting you go?”

England seized the opportunity and reached his blind open mouth to bite him in the neck, his teeth closing around the taunt flesh of his tendons. Portugal faltered, moaning loudly and speeding up his hand behind him. England lapped at the bite marks, biting over them again but softer, drawing more mewls from Portugal’s heaving body.

“I want to see you, love,” England breathed against his neck, kissing and licking and biting any available flesh he could reach. Portugal nodded hastily, reaching up to pull at the knot securing England’s blindfold in place.

England blinked a few times. The light provided by the multiple candlesticks around his quarters casted odd shadows over them and he took a moment to get his bearings. The first thing he looked at was his bare knee over his thigh, his eyes following the wet sounds of his fingers, settling on Portugal’s hips, craning his neck to try and peek, but falling back down when he found he couldn’t. Only then did he look at Portugal’s amused little smile.

“Bloody cock tease,” he whispered, reaching forward to capture Portugal’s lips. Portugal chuckled, grasping at the back of his head and securing him in place as they opened their mouths wider, their tongues hot and vicious in each other’s mouths.

Portugal’s fingers brushed against his prostate and he gasped into the kiss. England blinked his eyes open again and took in his expression, breathing hard with him in anticipation. “That’s enough fingering, don’t you think?”

“Says you,” Portugal retorted with a snort, brushing against his prostate again and again and moaning louder than he necessarily had to only to watch England squirm more against his restraints.

“Come on, let me go, you proved your point,” he said, but Portugal shook his head, grinning.

“Let you go so you can have me in front of my cheering crew? I think that would be very much _against_ my point.”

England groaned and tried to kiss him again, but Portugal pulled back before he could, his fingers digging painfully into England’s scalp. He could make himself come just from this, just from his fingers in his ass and England’s frustrated hard stare, watching the wet spot in his pants growing bigger and darker. He grinned. Maybe one day he could even make _England_ come just from this.

“We’ll put in a request to upgrade our cannons,” he said finally.

Portugal grinned wider. “And?”

England rolled his eyes. “And I won’t let myself get captured again.”

He pulled out his fingers with a wet sound and England shifted against his restraints again, spreading his legs wider and presenting the hard bulge between them to his attention. Portugal pulled at the short strands of his hair tightly and kissed him ferociously while his oily fingers undid the restraints securing his right hand. England immediately used it to pull him fully over his lap, bringing him flush against his chest as he reached around him to unbind his other hand. Portugal cradled his head between his hands and delved his tongue in deeper, breathing harshly through his nose and not wanting to let him go. England’s hands found his ass and grabbed both cheeks in them, squeezing the plump flesh and pulling them apart, one of his fingers reaching his oiled stretched rim, his throat humming appreciatively at his work.

“Find the moles in your crew,” England said, pushing Portugal away only enough to unbuckle his belt. Portugal dragged his lips across his cheek, down his neck. “Find them, but don’t get rid of them.”

England pushed his pants open to pull out his cock, sighing as he pumped it into his fist. Portugal opened his coat, reached his hands inside to palm his chest over his simple cotton shirt, feeling the muscles of England’s stomach flutter under him. “What do you want me to do with them?”

“Watch them for now,” England said, stroking his cock and digging his fingers in Portugal’s waist. “Let them find out we have a rendezvous scheduled in Bermuda near Christmas. We’ll be waiting.”

Portugal pulled back to look him in the eye. “But that would ruin our Christmas plans.”

England paused and stared at him, his mouth hanging stupidly open. “Well, yes…”

“No,” Portugal said firmly, “We’re not rescheduling Bermuda.”

He rolled his eyes and pulled Portugal closer by the ass. “Fine.”

Portugal huffed self-righteously, going back to kissing his neck.

“I’m set to go back to India in five months. You have until then to learn how to sink a ship.”

England punished him by slapping his ass and Portugal laughed and moaned.

“On your feet,” England ordered and Portugal brushed their lips together before climbing off his lap. England followed and rubbed his wrists where the ropes had dug into his skin. “Didn’t have to tie them so tight.”

“Poor baby,” Portugal mocked him and took his reddened wrists in his hands, giving each a kiss. “Maybe next time you’ll think about that and avoid being captured. That way I won’t have to tie you up.”

England pulled him flush against his chest. “Maybe next time I’ll tie _you_ up.”

“Is that a promise?” Portugal asked with a breathy grin and England pushed him backwards until his bare ass hit the edge of the desk, swiping his arm across his things and dropping them to the floor under Portugal’s feeble protests. He shut up when England turned him around and pressed himself to his back, feeling every brass button of his coat against his shirt and the hot hard line of his cock against his ass.

“That something you want, Port?” he breathed into his neck, his hand reaching out for the amber vial of oil that had escaped his destructive sexual impetus. Portugal heard the rustling of his pants being dropped and felt the pressure of his fingers on his skin. Portugal spread his legs wider and braced himself on the wooden surface in silent offer. “You want me to tie you up and fuck you raw?”

He moaned at the image it produced in his mind as England closed his oily hand around his cock. “Yes,” he said, very quietly, mostly to himself.

England’s body glued itself to his back like a second skin, his cock fitting between his cheeks. “What was that, love?” He asked in a whisper, his wicked smirk etched in his words.

“I said _yes_ ,” he repeated, louder. England’s hand tightened around him and Portugal pressed his ass back, shamelessly rubbing himself on his cock, wanting him inside.

“Fuck, Port,” England gasped, abandoning Portugal’s cock in favor of his hips, thrusting blindly against his crack and breathing hard over his back, dampening his shirt. He tilted his hips and Portugal went with it, canting his ass back to take him. “I’ll do it. I’ll tie you to the bed and not let you go until you’re filled with my come.”

Portugal choked on air, feeling England push into him with his greased cock stretching him open. He dug his short nails on the desk and let his head hang forward, hiding his moans into the wood until England was all the way inside.

Their sounds were too loud in the quiet of the room, but Portugal couldn’t stop the moans and little gasps that spilled from his lips. England leaned over him and covered his hands on the table, their fingers catching over and around each other’s. England’s shorter height meant his head couldn’t quite reach over his shoulder, but when he spoke into the mess that was his hair behind him, Portugal shivered all the same.

“Do you want the blindfold too?” England asked, fucking him slowly, short jabs of his cock into his warm oiled flesh. “Do you want me to hold you down and fuck you open just like last time?”

Portugal breathed loudly, his throat convulsing with sounds he didn’t recognize.

“Remember?” England kept going, tightening their hands together and thrusting into him, quickening his pace. “How long ago was that?”

He rubbed his cock against his stimulated prostate and Portugal threw his head back, almost hitting him in the nose. “Four months,” he answered. Then he added, “Too long.”

England let go of one of his hands to grip his hips tightly, quickening his erratic thrusts.

“Did you miss it? All those months without my cock inside you, did you miss having me like this?” He asked, but his voice was breathy and broken now, his cheek pressed against Portugal’s back. “Did you miss me?”

“Yes, _yes_ ,” Portugal answered honestly, _too honest_ , reaching down to grasp himself, matching his speed. His body tightened, his toes curling on the floor with anticipation, his knees barely managing not to buck under the strain of England’s thrusts. He wanted it to last longer, but he was so close already. “I miss you all the fucking time.”

England moaned into his back. He pulled his right leg up the desk and forced him down with his body, trapping him on the wooden surface and fucking him in earnest, the damp spot on the back of his shirt growing wetter with his harsh hot breaths. Portugal hid his face in his arm, speeding up his hand, feeling pleasure surge through his body like lightening hitting the ocean, a long white line of electricity followed by deafening thunder. He could feel it coming and it still caught him by surprise when it struck him, his mouth opening in a stuttering moan, his entire body clenching around the intruding hardness of England’s cock in his ass, come sputtering in his hand.

England whined deep in his throat, breathing hot damp air into his spine. He shifted his trembling fingers under his thigh and spread him open wider, beyond his usual flexibility, and Portugal knew he would be aching all over come morning. He bit him over his wet shirt and Portugal moaned weakly, too hot and too pliable to protest.

“I missed you too, Port,” England breathed into the cotton over his back, intertwining their fingers over the desk. “God, I missed you so much.”

He came quietly, pressing his face against his back. Portugal gasped breathlessly as England hips shoved his come deeper inside him with blind hard thrusts until he sagged, a heavy warm weight pinning him over his desk.

They breathed heavily in the quiet of his quarters, their fingers tightening together.

-

“Do you think your brother knows about us?”

Portugal puffed out smoke from his pipe and offered it to England, sitting beside him on the floor. He took it silently, pulling a drag and holding the smoke in his closed mouth. Portugal thought about it. Could Spain know he had met England when their paths crossed outside Persia’s halls as they both fought for control over his trade a few years ago? It was possible. But could he have heard how England had snuck into his ship after everyone had gone to sleep and the agreement they had reached after they spent the night fighting and tearing each other’s clothes off and fucking in his cabin until the sky started to clear and England had to escape his awakening crew in nothing but his boots, his coat and his hat?

That was also possible. And likely.

“Maybe,” he said, looking at the dancing shadows on the walls of his quarters. “If he knew for sure I’d probably be back in a cell by now.”

England breathed out the smoke upwards into the open window above them. “You’re not going back to that place.”

Portugal sighed tiredly. “I don’t plan to.” He looked back at England and accepted his pipe back. He was still mostly dressed and Portugal felt too naked next to him, even with his shirt still on. “I need to get out of that country.”

England hummed in agreement and leaned back, raising a knee and resting his arm over it. “And I need to get out of mine.”

He inhaled around his pipe and watched the shadows on England’s face. “You’ve had problems with your siblings before.”

“Not like these.”

Portugal smiled and blew smoke on his face. “You said that before too.”

England made a face and waved the smoke away. “You’ve been conquered before too, if that’s the case.”

They stayed silent for a moment after that, passing the pipe between them.

“How much more money do we need?” Portugal asked in the quiet of the room.

England thumped his head back against the wood of the ship. “Maybe two cargoes’ worth. A bigger ship would probably cost more.”

“No,” Portugal shook his head firmly. “A small ship is fine. Small ship, small crew.”

England nodded, closing his eyes. “Then two more and we’re free. We’ll hide so deep they’ll have to drain the entire ocean to find us.”

“Considering we don’t kill each other before that,” Portugal joked, pulling another drag from his pipe.

“We won’t,” England snorted, his hand reaching around the back of his waist to pull him over his lap. Portugal obliged with a huff of tired laughter.

Portugal leaned his head against his, kissed him under his right eye. “They’re stranding you in Annobón tomorrow.”

England groaned. “Could at least drop me off somewhere closer to home.”

He caught his dangling emerald earring between his teeth again and pulled lightly. “They can always change their minds and just shoot you.”

The appalled look England gave him would be worth a painting, Portugal thought idly, laughing to himself.

“I could, however, be persuaded to let you mysteriously slip between my fingers into the night,” he said slowly, settling better in his lap and reaching his fingers down his cotton shirt under his heavy coat. “I’m a very inefficient guard.”

“Oh?” England smirked, dragging his fingers over his thighs, leaving sparks of want wherever he touched him. “And what would that cost me?”

Portugal slipped his hands into his drawers, grinning at the little gasp that escaped England’s parted lips. “What do you have to offer?”

**Author's Note:**

> This was part of a broader series of Alternative History porny one-shots, but since it came out more as a PWP than an AltHist, I decided to post it by itself.


End file.
